Broken
by Mikey Parkas
Summary: A second chance turns into a sad moment of realization as House gets a dose of his own medicine. CameronHouse interaction.


A/N: This story was inspired by my best friend. Just a short look at how the tables can turn on a person and how much the truth really hurts. Realizations (for those of you who were following it) is still in the shop, minor tuning up and repair work in general being done. If I ever finish, by George, we'll have a grand ould Jello party!...Don't count on it though. Anyway. Without further ado, I present to you "Broken"; the title may be ridiculously clichéd, but the story…not so much (I hope). Please, read and review : )

Disclaimer: I don't own these folks.

Broken

She hadn't known how to react when he had asked her. She had stared at him dumbly, asking "You mean, like a _date_?" This time, House had nodded and given her an almost charming grin. "Exactly like a date." There had been a good deal of shock, followed for the rest of the week by a kind of numb surprise, and ever-increasing anticipation. To put it bluntly, the first date had sucked. Cameron had figured it would, but still, she had plowed right into it with all the excitement and naivety of a high school girl, convinced that she could, in some way, win House over. Needless to say, it hadn't exactly gone down that way.

Waiting by the window, dolled up in fine clothing, (but not too fine…she couldn't let him see how badly she wanted to make an impression on him), watching for him to show up in a car borrowed from. Wilson. Cameron didn't see how it was possible for a second date with House to go well. But then, there had to be _some_ hope, otherwise she wouldn't be bothering. Her dress was black, made of a gauzy material that shimmered faintly, depending on the light. She wore the same earrings as last time, her mother's, and wondered if House would comment on them again; she expected he might. This time, though, she wore her hair up, in a less seductive fashion. Cameron didn't expect that there was anything she could change about her appearance that would make House like her, but some part of her mind had convinced her that it was worth a try anyway. Checking her makeup in the window's reflection, she fidgeted with her nails, wondering when he would show up.

A year ago, Cameron wouldn't have been able to explain to anyone, let alone herself, why she was attracted to House. Was it his eyes, ice blue and piercing, but still gentle in a way that made you feel like he could see your soul with them? Or the semi-mysterious air about him, his self-proclaimed lack of social life and the fact that no one ever saw him around anyone but Wilson? She could not explain it, so House had explained it for her. On the date. _"You live under the delusion that you can fix everything. You don't love; you _need_…I'm damaged. I'm what you need."_ The rest of the night had been tense, and just as Chase and Foreman had suggested, Cameron _had_ cried into her pillow. Never in her life had anyone offered such a scathingly honest opinion on such a thing. It had hurt, and for a while, Cameron had wondered if maybe he was right. Maybe she wasn't capable of loving just for the sake of love. Maybe she did feel the need to bring comfort to hurt people and try her hardest to fix them. It had taken her months, but eventually, she had decided that House was wrong.

Lights appeared around the corner at the end of the street, and her breath caught in her throat. A car, which she quickly recognized as Wilson's, pulled up to the curb in front of her building. The lights flicked off, and Cameron watched for House to limp out. When there was no movement from inside whatsoever, she thought for a moment that maybe he meant for her to just walk out. Stepping away from the window and trying to fight of a feeling of hopelessness, Cameron grabbed her purse and walked towards the door. The slamming of a car door outside stopped her from going out, though. House was going to be a gentleman. He was actually going to struggle up the two flights of stairs to her floor, meet her, and walk her down. _Why shouldn't he?_, she thought as she backed away from the door, waiting for the sound of his cane banging on it. _He asked me this time. He ought to be a gentleman._

The knock was slow in coming, but eventually it did, preceded by the expected footsteps, the ones that were slightly uneven and joined by the sound of his cane, a third leg. House knocked, and Cameron felt a huge wave of nervousness wash through her. One hand on the door latch, she took a breath to calm herself. House couldn't see just how anxious she was. This was her one chance to prove to him that she _was _capable of loving. Casting aside any doubts she was feeling, Cameron opened the door.

There was House, standing there, looking perfectly natural, almost like he showed up at her apartment all the time. Once again, he was wearing a suit, something he rarely did, and Cameron couldn't help but feel special. Here was a man who didn't bend to any rules, a man who usually shunned things like dates and suits and the like, all dressed up for her. She smiled.

"You're on time." She stated cheerily, trying to eliminate all traces of apprehension from her voice while she closed and locked the door. House nodded, tugging awkwardly at the collar of his shirt.

"Well, I was hoping the hooker would stay a little longer, but she left early." He shrugged, giving her a knowing look. "Hookers just don't last like they used to. Otherwise, I'm sure I'd have been late."

Any other girl would have more than likely been offended by this remark. It was a joke, and Cameron knew it. She smiled, appreciating his humour for once. She knew he was covering up for his own awkwardness and nervousness. They made there way outside and to the car silently. House held open the car door for her, and she nodded in thanks. After shutting the door, House climbed in, nonchalantly pushing her cane in her direction. Cameron took it wordlessly, thankful for the loose atmosphere they were sharing. The car came to life with a slight sputter, and then they were gone, off to what could turn out to be either a very lovely evening or a total disaster. Cameron hoped for the former.

"No corsage this time?" Cameron asked jokingly.

House gave her a mock frown. "Sorry. I gave it to the hooker. Next time maybe."

She smiled again, not at the joke, but at the mere thought of a "next time".

"So, where are we going?"

"I've got reservations at Didio's. Italian place. There isn't any history of it having ever been a strip club. You'll like it."

"At least not any history that you know of." She offered, enjoying the look that came across House's face, wishing he hadn't covered it up so quickly. He hadn't expected her to joke with him. She sighed. "House, even you can't be dense enough to think that I'm always strictly professional and easily offended. I _do _joke sometimes, you know."

His look suggested that this was news to him, but he nodded. "Right."

The rest of the drive was in silence, and while it was comfortable, between two people who didn't have whole lot to say to one another but were okay with it, Cameron's anxiousness was beginning to come back. House had but it at ease with his light jokes, and she had in turn put him at ease with her joke. But now, she felt almost ridiculous, the more she thought about. Her she was, on a date with a man twice her age, and the only thing that she could think about was the way her had hurt her the last time. If there was anyone who wasn't capable of love, it was House. He was emotionally closed off. At least Cameron was open to people, even if they were "damaged". Riding along in the quietness, she decided it was better to only love a damaged person that it was to love no one.

The car came to a stop, and Cameron was jerked out of her thoughts.

"This is it." House announced, flipping off the ignition and taking his cane back from Cameron. She looked out the windshield at the place, and was surprised to see that it was actually a decent looking establishment. House pulled a slight face, then looked at her. "Shall we?"

She nodded and forced another smile. She was starting to feel a little sick. She liked House, a lot, but she was beginning to realize that she wasn't the problem. And she didn't know how to tell him.

A man inside with the name "Jones" embroidered on his shirt seated them and gave them the wine list, telling them that their server would be with them in just a moment. House picked up the list and began perusing it, making a face here and there, and doing a piss poor job of fooling Cameron. She leaned over and pulled the menu away from his face.

"House. You don't have to pretend. We can just talk you know."

He closed the list. "They didn't have any Pinot Noir anyway." He folded his arms in front of him across the table and looked directly at her. "What do you want to talk about?"

Taken aback, Cameron looked him right back in the eye. "Whatever you want. You asked _me_ on this date."

He nodded as though that were a fair statement. "You're right." But he didn't offer up any conversation, and Cameron felt her last hopes slipping fast. He wasn't ready for this, and she wondered if he ever would be.

"How about you tell me why you decided to ask me out. We tried it once before. It didn't really work out. So, I'm curious. Why the second chance?" She was curious, and had been dying to ask ever since Monday when he had first asked. But for some reason, she hadn't quite been able to work up the nerve. She saw his eyes go on the defensive, a frantic search through his mind to think of any acceptable way to change the subject. Cameron wasn't about to let it go that easily. "House?" He sighed, an almost unnoticeable gesture.

"I think I may have been wrong last time. About you. About me." He was struggling for the words, and was relieved by the arrival of the waiter. Cameron watched as he took his time, asking about the different wines that he couldn't possibly have been that interested in, amazed at how knowledgeable he could sound about them while he was scrambling his mind to come up with an answer to Cameron's question.

"Fine. The Pino Grigio then." The waiter nodded, jotting it down and drifting away.

Cameron leaned in again, looking at House, not backing down one bit. "So…?"

"Well, they didn't _have _the Pino Noir. What was I supposed to do?" He asked in the mock voice of one accused. When he could see that she wasn't going to smile this time, he dropped the put act and gave her innocent question some serious thought.

"Like I said. I think I was wrong."  
"That's a first."

He didn't flinch at all, but kept going. "I just felt like I was harsh, and you warrant another chance."

Cameron nodded, quiet, thinking. The waiter returned with their wine and disappeared again, and still Cameron said nothing. She was looking down into her lap intently, running a finger lightly over her bracelet. House frowned, arching his eyebrows in disbelief. "Soooo…Second chance…Maybe you want to, I don't know, talk to me? Say something?" He offered sarcastically.

She took a breath, trying for the second time that evening to calm herself. This wasn't turning out the way she had originally thought it might. Amazingly, she felt as thought she had gone from being a dumb high school girl waiting on her date to an experienced woman who had knew the truth. Cameron looked up, into the ice blue eyes, and spoke.

"House, I'm not the one who needs the second chance. I _do _love. Maybe too much sometimes, but at least it's love." She shook her head, feeling emotions well within her at the thought of the dying man she had married what seemed like such a long time ago. "Everyone loves for some reason, and yes, maybe I do think I can fix things. I know I can. But not everything. You were right; that's delusional."

He was watching her intently, but her tone and the way her eyes were welling up made his stomach turn. House didn't like where this was going. He didn't know where, but he could sense it.

"That's the difference between you and me. I love for all the wrong reasons, but you…" her words caught in her throat, and Cameron had to pause to admire the way he had pushed on when he had spoken the harsh truth about her. "House, you…you don't love at all." There was no reaction in his eyes. She didn't know what she wanted to see there. Maybe hurt, just so he would know how she felt the last time. "Maybe you used to, once, but I don't think you do anymore. You're "damaged" a lot worse than you thought. You're not just a "charity case" for me too feel sorry for and fix. House, you're beyond fixing. I can't do it, and I don't know who can. You've buried your emotions and your ability to connect with people." Cameron took another breath, choking down a sob. She whispered, "You're broken."

House continued to say nothing, just let this sink into him and try to decide how to feel about it. Perhaps the mere fact that he actually had to _think_ about what to feel was testimony enough to Cameron's statement. She was beautiful, in all her caring, the way she could hurt inside just from hurting someone else. The waiter came back.

"Are we ready to order?"

Cameron sniffed and looked up. "Um, yes. I'll have…"  
House didn't listen. He just stared at her, hearing nothing but the last words she had said to him. Broken.

The End

A/N: well kids, that's a wrap. many thanks for reading. please, _please,_ review. jello party if i get 200! haha. y'all are the foam on my latte.


End file.
